Snow White Innocence
by Envy and Fury
Summary: Drabble turned oneshot. A glimpse into the lives of four boys, before the wars, before Harry Potter, and before growing up. This is them as they were meant to be, free and innocent just like any other, before they grow up to be four dead boys.


**Snow White Innocence**

It is snowing heavily outside Hogwarts, as it does every winter. A slither of a moon lights the sky with the softest of glows, reflecting off the hard ice of the Black Lake. Four shadows flit across the snow as the people to whom the shadows belong run across the open ground, their laughter echoing through the crisp night air.

"Merlin, it's fucking freezing out here." a voice, belonging to one of the figures, calls out, as the figure pulls his cloak tighter around himself.

"Oh, it's just a little chilly. No biggie." another voice replies, casually dismissing the first boy's worries with a toss of his head, sending the shadow of his long hair streaming across the snow.

"Shut your traps and let's move out a bit further, because we'll have bigger things to worry about than the cold if we're caught." a third boy joins the conversation, before he is smacked in the face by a snowball thrown by the second, carefree boy.

"You guys worry too much," the carefree boy says. "You'll be dead by twenty, if you keep it up."

"Yeah, well, at least we won't have frozen to death at fifteen, unlike you." the first, the snarky one, retorts, a snowball leaving his hand, aimed at the carefree one, despite his words about freezing.

The third figure, the worrier, follows suit, and the carefree one is pelted with snowballs until he falls over, losing his scarf in the process.

"Hey!" he protests, "This isn't fair! It's two against one! Help me out here!" He turns to the fourth boy, the quiet one, with a pleading look.

"Since when did you care about things being fair?" the quiet one asks, amusement lighting up his usually grim face as the carefree boy scrambles away from the snowy missiles of the other two.

"Since I'm the victim!" the carefree boy replied laughingly, and soon the snowball fight delves into a proper two-on-two snowball match, the snarky one and the quiet one against the carefree boy and the worrier.

-o-o-o-o-

As the battle draws to a close, a well aimed snowball thrown by the carefree boy causes one of the badly made forts to collapse on top of the quiet boy, who lets out an offended yelp as he is buried beneath the mounds of snow. He soon digs his way out, and is about to get his revenge when a robed figure approaches the four boys, trying to look stern.

"Now boys, it's a little late to be out playing in the snow, don't you think?" the jolly newcomer asks, smiling as the boys straighten up and brush snow out of their hair and clothes. "I'm going to have to give you detentions for this, you know."

The four boys follow the teacher back into the castle, leaving only a green and silver scarf lying forgotten in the snow.

-o-o-o-o-

Morning dawns unusually bright and early for a winter morning, and four boys are sitting at breakfast, looking tired and generally worse for wear. One of them seems to have contracted a nasty cold, and is draped in two cloaks, one his, and one borrowed from his brother.

"Rab, I told you it was too cold." His brother ruffles his hair.

"Well, if Evan hadn't buried me – " a sneeze interrupts his protests, and he gives in to a sneezing fit as his long haired friend stands up on the table.

"_Sonorus._" the boy on the table mutters, clears his throat, and announces rather loudly that he has lost his scarf, it has his name on it, and if anyone finds it, could they please give it back?

A sharp voice reprimands him. "Sit down please, Mr. Rosier. Ten points from Slytherin."

The boy sits, looking huffy at being told off, and flips the teacher the bird when she has her back turned.

"You deserved it. It was your own idiot fault for dragging us out there." the boy's friend tells him, laughing.

"But it was worth it. You had fun, admit it, Rookwood." the scarfless boy replies, and the other turns away, unwilling to admit anything. But he goes again the next night, and the night after, and all the nights after that.


End file.
